


In All The Worlds We Met (I Loved You)

by OMGitsgreen



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Evil, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Professors, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Character Study, Crisis of Faith, Dysfunctional Family, Essek Week, Essek Week (Critical Role), Essek Week 2020, Essek didn't give away the beacons AU, Gaslighting, Gen, In chapter 2 there is..., In chapter 3..., In chapter 4..., In chapter 5..., In chapter 6..., John Mulaney References, M/M, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fic, Scourger!Bren AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Students ship it, and there was only one bed, mentions of abuse, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMGitsgreen/pseuds/OMGitsgreen
Summary: "What if in all the worlds we met, I loved you?"Essek Week Day 1:ShadowsWhat if you aren’t my darkest self? Essek asked any god who may actually exist, dizzy and cold in his panic. What if I am yours?Essek Week Day 2:LonelinessMaybe there hadn’t been a singular moment. Maybe there had been a thousand cracks, a thousand fissures, and a thousand dislocations. Maybe Essek had never been whole at all.Essek Week Day 3:SpyWho are you? Essek wanted to ask the scourger. When the people in Rexxentrum saw your potential, did you cower or bite the hand that fed you?Essek Week Day 4:WineHis voice was smooth with a lilting Xhorhassian accent that added such a depth of flavor to him, and there was something so desirable and timeless about him...as if he were a vintage of wine that never went out of style.Essek Week Day 5:Teaching“Caleb it is then. I cannot tell you how truly excited I am to be teaching with you this year. I look forward to it, truly, from the bottom of my heart."Essek Week Day 6:Possibilities“The Taskhand is...he’s cunning and intelligent...but more than that he’s ruthless.”
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 117
Kudos: 233
Collections: Essek Week





	1. My Darkest Self

**Author's Note:**

> Hello one and all! I’m so excited to have a few little 1000ish word fics to contribute to Essek Week! Basically I took the prompt fills I liked the most, and asked the question, based on these prompts how many different ways could Essek and Caleb meet. This first fic is essentially a soulmate AU based off the Day 1 Prompt Shadow (you get your shadow when you meet your soulmate). 
> 
> Enjoy!

Essek returned to the home of his den rarely, and when he did it was only when necessary. With the news of his new job being what it was, Essek couldn’t figure out any way to avoid it (as much as he would have loved too). And so he appeared at his childhood home with the news in tow, and a dinner was thrown in his honor. In reality, his mother already knew. And Essek knew that she knew. Nothing came as a surprise to an umavi, and the people in the inner circle of the Bright Queen respected Dierta Theylss too much to not give her the news ahead of even Essek. The whole surprise dinner was really a farce, a kind of performance that everyone in Den Theylss put on. The pretend-to-be-a-loving-den act grated on Essek thoroughly, but he said nothing. Sometimes, it was easier to just bite your tongue and pretend.

And so his elder siblings got drunk on wine Essek brought for his own sake, his stepfather vanished at some point, and his mother seemed fit to remain the center of any room she occupied. At the bottom of his second glass he realized it was some kind of irony that he should be given the job of _Shadowhand_...considering what he was lacking. He made an off-color comment about his miraculous ascension to his mother, who sniffed and raised her chin as if his joke had insulted her on some personal level. His sister pushed the duck meat on her plate into the blood red plum sauce that had been dripped on her plate, painting a rather unappetizing picture. 

“You have received a great honor, don’t lessen it without your low brow humor,” his sister scoffed as she stabbed her food like she was imagining Essek’s face. To be fair to her, she probably was. She had always been the most creative out of all of them. 

“When you meet your soulmate, you’ll choke on that joke,” Verin said with a laugh, giving Essek a hard slap on the shoulder. Essek glared at him, but didn’t say anything. Verin was romantic in a way that Essek simply couldn’t understand...he saw meaning in the stars and his place in the world besides the great cosmic joke it was. Essek highly doubted Verin’s sentiment. After all, Essek didn’t think he would ever meet his soulmate. He didn’t meet too many people, and the Bright Queen understood that about him. Once he took on his official duties, he doubted that would change too dramatically. If anything he would be busy enough that it could get worse. 

The rest of his family crowded him, given permission by his mother’s acceptance. And yet he still caught a glimpse at his mother’s shadow, and wondered if that was a blessing or a curse.

* * *

It was said the Moonweaver was the one who blessed the world with soulmates, and with it...shadows themselves. A shadow was a mark of existence, a sign of a being made whole. When you met your soulmate you gained some immaterial essence, like two halves being connected. It was that part of your soul that was returned to you upon that destined meeting that granted a shadow, something that would follow you for the rest of your days. 

Each soul was granted only one soulmate, it didn’t reset through your lives...unless your soulmate was also consecuted. His mother's hadn't...the Bright Queen's had. Such was the luck of the draw. Essek didn't know what had happened to his mother's soulmate, but just the annoyed and disgusted look on her face when he had gotten up the courage to ask was enough. Essek loved knowing everything, but even he had his own limits. A soulmate wasn’t always a lover or a friend, sometimes they were the darkest part of yourself. But until you had a soulmate...a _shadow_ , you wouldn’t be able to tell. 

Essek, personally, was fine with being considered incomplete. He knew what people said about him from where they thought he couldn’t hear. He was as cunning as a snake, spinning a web as fine as any spider to catch his enemies and tear them apart. Essek was too young by a half, only in his first life, and yet greedy for more power. He had frigid cave water in his veins instead of blood, in fact he was so cold that they didn’t he would bleed if they put a knife to his throat and slashed it. He certainly didn’t have a soulmate, you needed a soul for that. 

That one was the most insulting, Essek thought. He had a soul, in fact, he was more alive than the fools who sold their own to things they didn’t understand without thinking of the consequences of such a bargain. His mind was sharp, and his thoughts unhindered by tradition or money. He sought only the truth. Essek was far more noble than any of them ever gave him credit for. Clearly there was a cruelty in being noble that others simply could not comprehend. Essek understood that even if they didn’t, after all, his family was testament to that fact. Essek would save them all, one day, by virtue of his discoveries. 

He had a soulmate too, and that was just a fact of life. It didn’t mean anything. His soulmate would change nothing. Of course he wasn’t immune to the fanciful delusion he drifted into with his daydreams, that his soulmate might understand him--might help him discover things in a way he hadn’t considered. But regardless, those were flights of fancy and this was his reality. One day he would meet his soulmate or he wouldn't. And even then, who knows, maybe he was destined to see his shadow spread out underneath him as his soulmate looped the noose over his head. 

That would be a fitting end to it all, Essek thought, for a spider caught in his own web deserved nothing less.

* * *

His soulmate didn’t come to him with a noose, but a beacon held high in the center of the Bright Queen’s cathedral. It was a light he was familiar with, a soft grey like a winter pallor had settled over a star. Their eyes met for a moment, and Essek watched something pool at the man’s feet, cast to the side by the vibrating light that swathed him. In between the next breath he felt the strangest sensation, as if his bones themselves were tingling...maybe something deeper, down at the root of him began to sprout. 

This wasn’t right, this wasn’t fair. This had to be a cruel trick--that somehow the universe was punishing him by returning that which he had given away. All of his scheming, all of his treachery was laid bare in this moment and there was nothing Essek could do to stop it. Who are you? Essek wanted to demand. Are you sent here to be my lover? My friend? Or the reflection of my darkest self? 

What if you aren’t my darkest self? Essek asked any god who may actually exist, dizzy and cold in his panic. What if I am yours? 

Essek looked down, saw his own shadow, and for the first time in his life...he trembled.


	2. The Star Damned Itself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What if in all the worlds we met, I loved you?"
> 
> Essek Week Day 1: Shadows  
> Who are you? Essek wanted to demand. Are you sent here to be my lover? My friend? Or the reflection of my darkest self?  
> What if you aren’t my darkest self? Essek asked any god who may actually exist, dizzy and cold in his panic. What if I am yours?  
> Essek Week Day 2: Loneliness   
> Maybe there hadn’t been a singular moment. Maybe there had been a thousand cracks, a thousand fissures, and a thousand dislocations. Maybe Essek had never been whole at all. Perhaps Essek Theylss was just a collection of broken shards gathered into a body he had to justify was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Day 2 of Essek Week. I chose the prompt, Loneliness because of course I did. I don’t usually lean heavy into angst but you know, sometimes you just gotta. This one is a more character study/gen fic. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: Definite dysfunctional family dynamics//gaslighting//mentions of abuse//crisis of faith

Was there a moment? 

Essek sometimes struggled with that thought. Had there been a moment when everything went wrong? When he realized that he was better off alone? He could conjure a thousand memories to mind. A quiet hallway, the corner of the library where he hid from a party between the shelf and the wall, the sharp pain of a rap on his knuckles that split and bled, the twist of a pinch in the classroom. When had it been? Could it be the day he heard his father hissing to some distant aunt about his inability to listen? Was it the moment he passed his sixteenth birthday and his mother’s lip turned up in a sneer because Essek was just Essek and there was no long dead great living in his body? When he had raised a fork to his lips and realized that food had no flavor? Had it been something earlier? When? 

Maybe there hadn’t been a singular moment. Maybe there had been a thousand cracks, a thousand fissures, and a thousand dislocations. Maybe Essek had never been whole at all. Perhaps Essek Theylss was just a collection of broken shards gathered into a body he had to justify was his. 

Maybe it was this: hacking his hair off in the bathroom the day his heart was broken and swearing never to do it again. 

Or this: a beacon traded hands in the darkness. 

Or this: 

“People don’t love broken things. Oh stop that, everything is replaceable,” his mother had sighed, with little remorse as she threw the cracked porcelain bowl at a servant. Essek had so often admired it, wondered at the beautiful flowers painted along the edge and the silver rim. She had wanted him to make it float to prove his lessons weren’t a waste of her time, and Essek had made it do so despite the fact he was too young to do it. But he _had_ done it, and had done well and Essek could tell his mother was almost proud of him--until his sister purposefully slammed a door close and startled him. The bowl went tumbling from the air and crashed onto the floor...destroying him completely. 

The bowl had been bought a long time ago, brought from the Menagerie Coast and settled in the corner to gather dust and be a relic of the den’s wealth. They had it because they could afford expensive things, not because it fit anywhere. In Essek’s eight year old imagination it took on some sort of legend. He had pestered his science tutor about those flowers, who had listed off their names with a put-out tone. Cornflowers and marigolds, larkspur and chicory. There were almost no flowers native to Rosohna anymore (the endless night had robbed them of that) but that bowl showed Essek that there was a world outside of his father’s grimaces and his mother’s disapproval, and it was a place he could go one day. It became a little song he sang in his head on those long days. On the days when his mother had no patience and his father had even less and everyone was fed up with him again and again because he wasn’t perfect yet and his mind spun the tune: _cornflowers and marigolds, larkspur and chicory, Empire, Rosohna, Tal’dorei, Menagerie._

_People don’t love broken things. Everything is replaceable._ Hissed his mother’s voice and his father’s voice as he stared at the closing door. It overtook that childish rhyme and became something deeply engraved in his heart. 

Essek wondered if that was the moment when he realized that she was talking about him. 

Or this: 

“Oh Luxon, holiest of lights, bless this child with eyes that can see past the marauding darkness and turn him towards the light,” the Luxon cleric said as he dabbed oil on Essek’s forehead. Essek looked at his family seated at attention in the rows, and felt his mother’s gaze digging into him. He turned and stared at the beacon...and just saw it. Incense swirled in the air--puffs of smoke caught on the strobing lights. There was just light. He couldn’t feel anything. 

What were they all feeling? Essek wondered as panic slicked his insides and broke goosebumps across his skin. Why? Why couldn’t Essek see whatever they saw? Why couldn’t he feel what they felt? He had done everything right, studied the ritual down to the last detail, but he could feel nothing. He just wanted someone to tell him what he was doing wrong...someone to comfort him. Somehow the wanting made it all the worse. His tutors had told him that though the stars looked close together, they were really an unquantifiable distance apart. And in that moment he realized that was him, gazing into the light of a star, adrift in the vastness of the heavens alone. He was surrounded by people--always, always being watched, but he was so alone. No one loved a broken thing like him, not even the Luxon--but what if--what if--? 

Don’t leave me alone, Essek begged the star. 

The star damned itself, and gave him no answer.

* * *

As Shadowhand, he was given a certain number of perks. One of them was real estate--a home to be exact. When he received the title to his new home, he had nearly balked at the audacity of being able to live alone in a world that was defined by your den, but then became overwhelmingly excited. In fact, he clutched the deed to the land with a shaking hand hidden by a long sleeve and refused to let it go for the first two hours of having it. 

When he finally came back to his family’s ancestral home to pack his most important things and to send for the rest, his mother was not impressed. 

“Why would you move?” she demanded of him, as the servants helped to fill his trunks. The servants stopped at the sound of her displeasure, but with a look at Essek they continued. 

“Mother, we already spoke about this,” Essek said tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have already accepted, and have put down the money--my money to be clear, for the upkeep. I understand you are not pleased but it is already--” 

“We have not spoken about this,” she said haughtily, smoothing her hands on her red dress as if she could make Essek see the reason in her position. Essek saw none. 

“Did you think when we were talking about this last week, and then three days ago, and then yesterday, that this was all--what? Hypothetical?” Essek asked, his annoyance becoming obvious in spite of his best attempts. “If that isn’t the case then you have a very selective memory, Mother.” 

He was being far too petty, that was exceedingly obvious. Essek was doing himself no favors, in fact, what he should have been doing was being pleasant and considerate and polite. Mother preferred that version of him, the son that did nothing but exist solely to further her every last ambition. It was too hasty, showing the self he kept private just like his mother wanted. No one liked this Essek, not that this Essek had anyone he would care enough about to care. The eagerness he felt at the idea of being alone without his family constantly breathing down his neck was intoxicating and it was making him something he was loath to admit: bold. And his mother noticed because of course she did, and her skin took on a lavender flush of fury. 

“It simply doesn’t make any sense. We can take that residence and do something useful with it, give it to a branch of the family. A single man has no reason to have a whole estate for himself, it’s just wasteful. Especially considering--” 

“Considering what?” Essek demanded, cutting her off. The servants at this point grabbed the trunks and escaped the room like harpies were descending on them. “Go ahead, Mother. Say it.” 

“Oh don’t be dramatic, Essek. We both know you have no desire for a family of your own, don’t make me out to be the villain in this story you tell yourself,” his mother said with a roll of her eyes. Essek was furious now, his blood was boiling under his skin--something ugly and terrible was clawing at his insides attempting to escape, venom was filling up his throat like bitter bile. 

“The only thing I don’t have a desire for is being bred like a prized Horizonback tortoise,” Essek hissed before throwing up his hands. “But you know what? You are right. If that’s what having a family is like I would rather be alone, so just let me go. If you ever loved me, even a little bit, you would just let me be.” 

“This is not your decision to make,” she warned him. She wanted him to bend--to break. For once, Essek didn’t back down. Instead he stood tall, facing his denmother with a kind of strength he didn’t know he possessed. “The Luxon will not shine on this decision. Your place is here, I am your denmother--your Umavi, and you will respect my will.” 

If the Luxon existed and it chose you as the paragon of virtue, then it is a foolish deity, Essek thought.

“I have already made my decision,” is what Essek said before walking out the door.

* * *

One of his mother’s favorite tricks was making Essek feel like he had gone absolutely crazy. When he was around her and when she was talking to him, he often had the acute sense that his mind was slowly being peeled back from its foundations like a soggy old parchment. He would say something--bring up something that had happened in the past, and she would deny it as if it had never happened in such a convincing manner that it left Essek feeling like maybe he had lost his grip on reality. She would tell him they had never argued, or she had never taken away a beloved blanket, or any number of things and Essek would almost believe her every time. 

Essek was finding that living alone was better and worse in that regard. Essek didn’t have anyone else making him feel like he was slowly going mad, but instead it was now springing from his mind. His job thankfully kept him on a rather rigorous schedule, but when (if) he returned home to his empty towers time seemed to both slow to a hardening syrup and speed up beyond his control. His trances were made short and abrupt by the sound of the wind and the cold of the stone, with little else to do once he was home he often researched on his projects for hours on end without stopping. He feared the day he retired (maybe, if he was lucky and his treachery wasn’t discovered) because Essek felt he would lose track of time all together. 

Not that there was retirement in sight. His new position as Shadowhand barely left him time to breathe, let alone work on the things he wanted to. But things were better. They had to be better than before. Anything was preferable than before. 

“This is what I wanted,” Essek reassured himself, as he lay on the floor in his second tower on a rug that had cost enough that he felt that he was entitled to be able to lay on it. “I wanted to be alone.” 

Had he? When had he wished that? 

The thought stumped him. When? When had being alone become the price he had to pay for his brilliance...for his research...for living? It seemed like it had become as natural as breathing...to be alone. He was suited to loneliness like a bird was to air. After all, whenever he had to speak to someone outside of work he felt like he was slowly withering away into nothing. And yet now he couldn’t even remember the last time he had even spoken honestly with another living being outside his head where all of his conversations went according to his daydreams...and it was suddenly very alarming. The Assembly was useless for that he had found, despite his hopes otherwise, and there was no one in Rosohna he could think to enjoy. 

He didn't like to admit it, but he had wanted a kinship with them... at least the mutual respect a fellow researcher deserved. But as always, it never worked out. The Cerberus Assembly was just another collection of old biased fools who worked only to absorb more power and prestige. Of course he would be happy with the research they were doing, and he was learning more. And learning was everything, the truth was the only thing, but even so...

Maybe tomorrow would be different, Essek thought. There was no reason to think so...there would be the meeting with Lythir and the Bright Queen and whatever guests were probably coming from the city of beasts, and then he would be caught up in all sorts of official nonsense. But maybe tomorrow the sting of loneliness wouldn’t be so apparent. Maybe he would be cold-hearted enough not to care. 

Maybe tomorrow, Essek thought, staring at his ceiling alone. Maybe tomorrow.


	3. The Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Essek Week Day 1: Shadows  
> Who are you? Essek wanted to demand. Are you sent here to be my lover? My friend? Or the reflection of my darkest self?  
> What if you aren’t my darkest self? Essek asked any god who may actually exist, dizzy and cold in his panic. What if I am yours?  
> Essek Week Day 2: Loneliness  
> Maybe there hadn’t been a singular moment. Maybe there had been a thousand cracks, a thousand fissures, and a thousand dislocations. Maybe Essek had never been whole at all. Perhaps Essek Theylss was just a collection of broken shards gathered into a body he had to justify was his.  
> Essek Day Day 3: Spy  
> Who are you? Essek wanted to ask the scourger. What backwater frost bitten village or city slum did they scrounge you up in? What gutters did you claw out of? What soldier barracks were you sprung from? When the people in Rexxentrum saw your potential, did you cower or bite the hand that fed you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Day 3 of Essek Week I took the prompt Spy. This is a Volstrecker!Bren AU, with a just slightly more lawful evil than neutral evil Essek. I absolutely love a Volstrecker!Bren AU, they are definitely my guilty pleasure. This is just my attempt to take a crack at it. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: mentions of torture//ambiguous but definitely implied murder
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Please if you feel inclined, leave a comment!

_“You are an intelligent man, Shadowhand. Surely you understand what my masters offer you, a chance to study that which you find most interesting,” the shadowed figure said, feminine voice heavy with an accent belonging to only tenant farmers and idle noblemen. But of course she was a tenant farmer, after all the powerful never used their own to crawl between cracks and slit throats. They liked to keep their hands clean, a sentiment Essek never truly shared. After all, what was an achievement you didn’t earn by your own virtue? “It would be foolish to turn down this opportunity.”_

_“And I also hear what your masters say about us from their high towers and in their studies, none of them too flattering. I am an intelligent man, but a vain one too I am afraid. I will not subject myself to working with those who clearly do not give me the respect I deserve,” Essek said, leaning his head upon his hand as he viewed the figure from where he sat at his desk. “I also must apologize in advance as well, for another one of my transgressions.”_

_“And what is that?” the figure asked, voice icy and cold._

_“As Ludinas likes to say in his little secret meetings, a cold-hearted Crick like me is capable of many things. Killing a messenger is one of them,” Essek said with a sharp-toothed smile._

* * *

The Dungeons of Penance were menacing at the best of times, but with the whole city under high alert, somehow it was made ever worse. He had been startled out of trance by a hard knocking at his door, and since then it had been a desperate flurry to try to get anywhere meaningful. Moving through Rosohna was a different sort of nightmare now and so by the time he reached the Dungeons he was almost relieved as he escaped the sight of green lanterns moving along the walkways like ghostly apparitions, while the beacons flickered their urgent message across the city. The streets had been dead silent for a long time, and only the roving Watch moved throughout the city like a many-headed beast from deep below ready for the kill. 

“Report,” Essek ordered as he met the five guards at the arch. The head guard nodded in deference before turning and keeping step with Essek’s glide. All of their shoes and armor clicked with the pace of their descent, the weight of their duty anchored them heavily to the ground. Essek remembered when a knobby-kneed Verin got his first suit of armor, and had scoffed at the display. On these men there was nothing to laugh about. 

“The Watch caught him outside the Skysybil’s home,” the guard explained as they walked the hallway of the Dungeon of Penance. “Thankfully she was at the Cathedral and was safe when the coordinated attack occurred. He was disguised as a drow, and attempted to cast some kind of charm magic. The lead guard of the Watch resisted the magic, and when he was struck with an attack the spell was dropped, revealing the attacker for what they were. After being subdued they were immediately brought here.” 

“I see, very well done,” Essek said pointedly in Undercommon with a prim nod before they arrived at the designated cell. There were two additional guards posted at the door, standing as dour monuments to the assassin's power. It wasn’t often they took one of these creatures alive, after all. “I shall go in and take stock of our new guest, make sure that they are comfortable.” 

He nodded at the guards who had accompanied him. The head guard then shifted and one other moved to join him, they motioned and the door was opened. Without any pomp and circumstance, Essek floated in to assess their unexpected gift. 

It was a human man. That didn’t surprise Essek, as most of the scourgers--the Empire’s pet assassin-spies that they caught tended to be humans. He was bound and muzzled according to regulation, hands behind his back and chained to the floor. He wasn't a large or physically intimidating human. The man instead looked at Essek expectantly. It was quite unlike the rabid struggling and spitting he had encountered with other scourgers. Though sometimes it was hard to tell with humans--they aged so quickly and were transitory creatures on the whole, Essek immediately got the impression that this one was older. Most of his face was obscured by the muzzle, and his hair color was covered by a layer of street-grime and dried blood on top of being cropped close to his scalp. But his eyes were a blue as calm, empty, and resigned as a vernal pool ready to disappear when the rains scattered to the wind.

Who are you? Essek wanted to ask the scourger. What backwater frost bitten village or city slum did they scrounge you up in? What gutters did you claw out of? What soldier barracks were you sprung from? When the people in Rexxentrum saw your potential, did you cower or bite the hand that fed you? 

It had to bite, Essek thought. From what little they knew about Scourgers they figured only the strong survived the process of being broken in. But an old one like this? He wondered if there was any personality left to be scraped from the inside of his skull. Perhaps the Assembly lobotomized their souls on top of their rational sense? It was funny to him how those who claimed to be on the side of civilization tended to be the ones who made themselves monstrous, they needed nothing but a miniscule push. 

“I must take the time to thank you,” Essek said, circling the scourger, taking a moment to catalogue him and his features. His ankle was twisted strangely. One sleeve had been torn and it revealed a set of wicked looking scars criss crossing his wrists and forearms. His blood was an almost startling red against his fair skin, slick and dripping on the stone. He would have to have a guard clean that up. Magic users tended to get funny ideas when they had access to blood. “You traveled a long way to be here, and I am certain we will learn so many new and interesting things.” 

The scourger remained staring forward, not stubbornly or angrily. His shoulders were loose and his neck was relaxed. The only inclination that Essek had that the man heard him was the slightest twitch of his head, as if Essek’s voice had surprised him. His common was good, though accented. It had been drilled into him by the best tutors that his denmother could afford. His guest probably hadn't heard common yet from any of the Drow, or maybe he thought Drow were incapable of common courtesy. That was a sentiment that was unfortunately prevalent. It was a foolishness that made Essek laugh. 

“I am here simply to let you know of the conditions of your stay here,” Essek said as he took in the rumpled and disorganized plain clothes. Not meant to raise suspicions, Essek figured, but of course they did. The Xhorhassian cut was about twenty years out of style, an amateur mistake. This man was not an amateur. Had he wanted to be captured? Or had his masters simply underestimated the Kryn? Empire-folk did like to think themselves so clever, after all. He wouldn’t be surprised either way, but he would find out sooner or later. “I know you must be a busy man, so I shall not take up a bigger portion of your day than necessary.” 

The man didn’t make a sound, but Essek felt his eyes on him when Essek returned to stand before him. There were freckles scattered across his nose and forehead, a handsome furrow to his brow as if he were always deep in thought. The more he looked, the more certain he was of what kind of creature he was facing, and he relished the opportunity. 

“You will find me to be a fair man,” Essek said simply, pleasantly. “I believe in what I can see, and results that I can gather from hard work. I am interested in nothing but knowledge. It gives me no greater pleasure than to discover something that no one else has discovered before. I am sure that someone like you can understand that. I am a slave to the truth, I am afraid. And I am willing to do a good many things to discover the truth about anything I set my mind to.”

Essek could see the gears turning in the scourger’s brain, a small twitch of the brow and tensing of his arms. Of course, of course, Essek thought excitedly though his expression as always was eternally smooth and amiable. The scourger was looking for an angle to work, something to barter, something to scheme with. Give them an inch, they would take it a mile. Essek already knew what the scourger saw. Young, handsome, egotistical, with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove. Good, good. The game wouldn’t be fun if the other player didn’t play, and Essek was so ready to coax this spy into the trap. 

“If you are compliant and what you tell me is the truth, I promise, your death shall be quick and painless. If not...well, truly I look forward to seeing what truths are teeming inside of you while I crack open your ribcage,” Essek said with a gentle smile. “I am excited for what we will discover together.” 

The scourger watched him, a light opening behind his blue eyes like a beacon uncovered. There was someone rattling around in the recesses of his mind, Essek would just have to see who it was that would peak out from the depths...what sort of monster would creep along Essek’s finely woven web. Essek nodded at the guards before leaving the cell, the guards leaving behind him in order to guard his back. Once they had all exited the room and took a few steps away from the cell to be safe, Essek turned around to address the guards. 

“No food or water for at least two days, after that, two cups of water and a crust of bread until I say so,” Essek said in Undercommon. “We want him to settle in neatly.” 

“Yes, Lord Shadowhand.” 

“I’ll visit again on the third day along with a healer. We’ll have to heal him up before we break him in again otherwise the pain will be dulled and ineffectual,” Essek said. “Though I will want updates on his condition until then, especially if it looks like his health is taking a turn. I shall take a look at his belongings in the meantime and see what we can find out about our little spider. I’m assuming someone will accompany me?” 

“Of course,” the head guard said, nodding to his fellows who saluted and then resumed their duties. “What do you expect to find? All we found were some general equipment and a few pieces of amber.”

“I expect to find everything,” Essek said as he began to glide once more. “After all, a wizard never leaves the house without his spellbook.”


	4. Sleepless in Zadash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Essek Week Day 1: Shadow  
> Essek Week Day 2: Loneliness  
> Essek Week Day 3: Spy  
> Essek Week Day 4: Wine  
> His voice was smooth with a lilting Xhorhassian accent that added such a depth of flavor to him, and there was something so desirable and timeless about him...as if he were a vintage of wine that never went out of style. It poured over him like it was worth 100 gold a glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I know this is Essek Week, but who better to appreciate Essek than Caleb? Honestly for today I was half tempted to just reblog my Bakery AU fic Labor of Love (which you can read on AO3, all about a buisnessman!Essek falling in love with the owner of a cute magic bakery). But you know, I had this kicking around in my WIP document, and it fit with the Wine Concept, so I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Also weirdly this is my first time ever writing from Caleb's perspective so...let me know if I'm doing it right lol

Caleb sighed as he watched his phone slowly but surely climb up from a measly 2% to 5%. His back was nearly plastered to the wall of the column, squeezed awkwardly between two rows of seats. Crowds of equally stranded passengers moved throughout the airport, trying to find some sort of slice of area to set up for the long wait. Based on the snowstorm that continued to rage outside, frosting the large windows and icing the wings of the planes, Caleb guessed they would all be there for some time. 

His phone began buzzing and flashing, Nott’s face flashed with her teeth in a wide expressive smile. Caleb picked up the phone. 

“Hallo,” Caleb answered. 

“Caleb! Are you alright!” Nott’s shrill tone went straight to his heart. “Where are you right now?” 

“We stopped in Zadash, I was supposed to get my connection here but it isn’t looking like that’s going to happen any time soon,” Caleb said with a wince. He looked over to the Dwendalian Air desk, which was in the process of being mobbed by irate customers. “The desk is going to announce the information at some point if no one murders them.” 

“What the fuck!” Beauregard’s voice echoed from the background. 

“That really is unfortunate,” Caduceus chimed in. 

“Are you going to be able to get somewhere to sleep?” Fjord asked worriedly. 

“I figured I would just rough it at the airport,” Caleb said, curling his legs towards his chest before flexing them out. “I’ve slept in worse places.” 

“We’ll come get you!” Nott nearly shouted into his ear, Caleb had to momentarily move the phone away from his ears. Someone sitting in a nearby seat shot him a dirty look, obviously having been startled out of sleep, before getting up and moving in a huff. Caleb gave them an apologetic look before refocusing on the chatter on the other end of the phone. 

“It’ll be like a super fun road trip!” Jester chirped. 

“No, no. That’s like three whole days, and very dangerous because of the snow. I’m sure we’ll be out of here by tomorrow anyways,” Caleb promised. 

“Well that fucking blows. Do definitely try to get a hotel or something man, I’m sure they have to give you something for the layover,” Beau said practically. 

“He probably won’t, _because it’s Dwendalian Air, and life’s a fucking nightmare!_ ” Jester sang cheerfully, and Caleb couldn’t help his grin. 

“He could kill them,” Yasha’s soft voice offered. “The people behind the desk.” 

“No, that definitely would not work under any circumstances,” Fjord pointed out. 

“It was a joke, mostly,” Yasha said, her quiet laugh making Caleb smile. 

“Alright, I’ll let you know where I am and what is going on,” Caleb promised. 

“Bye Caleb!” “Bye Cay-Cay!” “Good luck!” 

Caleb hung up the phone, tapping on the cracked screen. 10%. Caleb sighed, and slid further down on the wall. He continued to watch the waves of people, mostly their feet considering his angle. He liked counting and organizing, it was something that came natural and was always soothing despite the situation. Heels, sneakers, winter boots, light-up and glitter, black and brown, a myriad of types, black oxfords as shiny as a new copper--

A wallet dropped behind the oxfords. Caleb ripped his phone and cord out from the wall and rushed to grab the wallet. 

“Hey! Wait!” Caleb barely managed, breathless in his panic. He couldn’t imagine being stuck at an airport, and losing your wallet on top of that. Just that panic alone propelled Caleb forward. “Your wallet!” 

Black-shiny-oxfords turned around and it hit Caleb in the gut. He was the most handsome man Caleb had ever laid eyes on in his whole life. He was drow, like many of the professors who guest lectured at Soltryce University from Roshanna College, but had the distinct pleasure of being probably the most obviously attractive person Caleb had ever seen before. He was all high aristocratic cheekbones and delicate silver eyes and curly coiffed styled hair. He was wearing a meticulously pressed black suit tailored to match his whole aesthetic, like he would drift from the airport and onto a fashion magazine cover. 

He patted his pocket, before holding out a leather-gloved hand. He plucked his wallet from Caleb’s hand delicately. 

“Thank you so much,” shiny-oxfords said with a smile that made Caleb feel like he was having heart palpitations. His voice was smooth with a lilting Xhorhassian accent that added such a depth of flavor to him, and there was something so desirable and timeless about him...as if he were a vintage of wine that never went out of style. It poured over him like it was worth 100 gold a glass. "If I lost this, I would have been in some trouble." 

“Uh, yes, of course,” Caleb cringed, and shiny-oxfords immediately pulled up out of the way of an orc yanking his entire family’s carry on’s on his back. His touch, even through his glove, had Caleb jumping like he had been shocked. “Sorry, sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” shiny-oxfords said eyeing the hurrying family with distaste before looking back at Caleb, “which flight were you supposed to be on?” 

“Connection to Trostenwald,” Caleb said, managing to collect himself and hoping beyond all hope he wasn’t too obvious in his desire to drink this fashionable, beautiful stranger’s presence down for all it was worth. 

“Same,” shiny-oxfords said, looking at his phone. "Though I was hoping to make it to Nicodranas from there. Just got an alert, flight cancelled."

"Oh, sheisse," Caleb groaned, looking at his own phone. The same notification had popped up on his. 

"Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?" Shiny-oxfords asked worriedly. 

"I was just going to...you know sleep here," Caleb said with a helpless shrug. 

"Well, I have enough International Inn points and I made a reservation to stay the night at the Pillow Trove when it looked like things were turning sour. Consider this a thank you gift from me." 

"Oh, you don't have to," Caleb tried to argue. 

"No, I do not," shiny-oxfords said simply. Caleb stared at shiny-oxfords. "But it is the right thing to do considering you kept me from getting arrested as a Xhorhassian national at a Dwendalian border without a passport."

"Oh," Caleb said dumbly. 

"I am Essek Theylss," he said, holding out his hand like his name meant something and Caleb took it dumbfounded. 

"Caleb Widogast," he introduced. 

"It is a pleasure," he said as if it were easy being the classiest person in this place. "Let's get our bags." 

They had to wait an obscenely long amount of time to get their bags. And by the time they did, Caleb was perfectly fine to skip the line for the dinner ticket that he was sure wouldn't even work. They managed to get out of the airport, Caleb waving over a cab from the dozens that crowded the stand like birds huddling together against the snow. He opened the door for Essek after they loaded their bags into the back, eliciting another quirked half-grin from him that had Caleb flushed like he had downed a whole bottle. Caleb had only ever been to the Pillow Trove once, on a weekend in one room with the rest of the Mighty Nein. He wasn't proud to say that they got absolutely wasted on the liquor and cheap wine in the mini fridge, and when you were that drunk it was easy to feel like you belonged anywhere. However while being totally sober he knew he was absolutely out of place here among the crystal chandeliers and marble floors. 

The lady at the front desk gave Caleb an incredulous once over, before focusing squarely on Essek. Drow were rare...and generally still unwelcome, but considering how much his clothes nearly stank of money she put on her best congenial smile. 

"Reservation for Theylss," Essek said, flipping out a black credit card and an ID. The lady looked over the ID long and hard, though Essek continued to smile placidly. Eventually, she seemed appeased, though Caleb fought his glare. 

"Of course," she said, typing out very quickly on her computer. "We have a one bedroom available on the fifteenth floor. It comes with a pull out." 

"That will work," Essek stated before looking over at Caleb. "Sound fine to you?" 

"Yes, better than fine," Caleb said, hitching his duffle bag more firmly on his shoulder. He had balanced his messenger bag on the other, while holding Essek's rolling bag. Essek flashed another grateful look at him. 

"Very well, two keys please," Essek asked, and though it looked like it physically hurt the woman she coughed up the two keycards. 

They were down the hallway and up the elevator. Caleb counted the doors as they passed until they finally made it to the room. The room itself was spacious and well furnished, with a queen sized bed, a love seat and the pull out by the window with a small round table. The window itself was wide, and gave a beautiful view of the city that was still being pelted with snow. Caleb dropped his bags on the door side of the room, nestled by the closet. 

“I will be happy to take the pullout,” Caleb offered weakly, turning to his new roommate who smiled in an obvious attempt to placate him. 

“Nonsense. I only need to trance for four hours, you take the bed,” Essek said with a wave of his hand. “A Theylss always returns a favor, if I didn’t my family would have my head.”

“Then let me at least buy you something downstairs...dinner perhaps?” Caleb asked, surprised at his own daring. “And a good bottle of wine for the trouble.” 

“We can split the bottle then,” Essek said, his smile this time showing fangs. “And I doubt that any of this will be trouble for me. Come along then, Mr. Widogast. Dinner, wine, and then bed.” 

Caleb really did like the sound of that.


	5. Syllabus Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Essek Week Day 1: Shadows  
> What if you aren’t my darkest self? Essek asked any god who may actually exist, dizzy and cold in his panic. What if I am yours?  
> Essek Week Day 2: Loneliness  
> Maybe there hadn’t been a singular moment. Maybe there had been a thousand cracks, a thousand fissures, and a thousand dislocations. Maybe Essek had never been whole at all.  
> Essek Week Day 3: Spy  
> Who are you? Essek wanted to ask the scourger. When the people in Rexxentrum saw your potential, did you cower or bite the hand that fed you?  
> Essek Week Day 4: Wine  
> His voice was smooth with a lilting Xhorhassian accent that added such a depth of flavor to him, and there was something so desirable and timeless about him...as if he were a vintage of wine that never went out of style.  
> Essek Week Day 5: Teaching  
> “Caleb it is then. I cannot tell you how truly excited I am to be teaching with you this year. I look forward to it, truly, from the bottom of my heart. I’m sure I will learn a good many things from you.”

Caleb’s first day as an official professor at Rosohna University had marked down in his memory as hectic, according to his personal journal. He had just managed to get into the country by the skin of his teeth the day before the term was set to start, his lecture notes had been stained by tea by a very apologetic undergrad, and to top it all off there had been technical difficulties with the microphone as he had given the lecture. He also wasn’t looking forward to unpacking both this office and his new apartment as soon as he got home. 

But it wasn’t to say that all of the things that had happened that day were bad. All of the kids he had taught had loved Frumpkin (who was very lovable if you asked Caleb), and were all excited to put Find Familiar in their brand new spellbooks. Caleb found that Find Familiar always made for a great icebreaker lesson, and good first week as opposed to spending a whole lecture on the syllabus. Thankfully he had been told by a few of the undergrads that they were looking forward to the course and to summoning their own familiars next class. Caleb has also had actual thoughtful questions on the material, so though he felt beaten Caleb was not defeated. Sometimes teaching was just a measure in flexibility which was something he was working on. 

When he got back to his office, he was content to move in his important things and then go home to a new apartment to decompress. He had decided that unpacking his apartment could wait until he stopped feeling like his brain was going to steam right out of his ears. It was also a lot of work to unwrap each individually packaged porcelain cat sculpture and place them just right on the bookshelf. He was just about finished with that and ready to call it quits when a knock startled him out of his focus. 

"You are Dr. Widogast then?"

The voice was calm, authoritative. Caleb looked up to see the most handsome man he had ever laid eyes on in his whole life. He was drow, as were many of the professors who guest lectured at Zadash University from Roshanna College. His hair was white, his skin an attractive dark-lilac, his eyes a glinting silver. He was lithe and shorter than Caleb, and wearing a meticulously pressed slate grey wool-and-cashmere trench coat with shiny buttons that had to cost thousands of dollars. And, by the gods, was that collar velvet? He was really wearing an ascot too, and shiny shoes and black leather gloves. Caleb had never felt so grungy in his whole life, in his cat fur covered thrift shop sweater, crinkled khakis and bargain-bin boots. Caleb had the insane urge to cringe and apologize for breathing in the same air as him. 

"I am," Caleb said, holding out his hand in spite of himself. "I'm Caleb Widogast, and you are…?"

"Dr. Essek Theylss, I run the fall semester Advanced Dunamantic Theory seminar and the Introduction to Graviturgy," he introduced, taking his hand lightly. Caleb couldn't help but gape. Essek Theylss, he knew the name Essek Theylss. Anyone in academia with even the slightest interest in dunamancy knew who Essek Theylss was, and yet somehow this man was talking to him. 

"Yes of course," Caleb said, his brain and excitement running ahead of his decorum. "I read your essay on influencing gravity with magic. You created a levitation spell that is rooted in dunamancy that can last for hours! It was an incredible piece of work." 

"I see my reputation has preceded me," Dr. Theylss said, mouth curling up in a half-smile. "And here I was thinking I was alone in admiration."

"What?" Caleb asked dumbly, as Essek ran a gloved finger over the desk, he inspected his finger before continuing to gaze upon his surroundings with a thoughtful look. For a moment it looked like Essek was considering the environment before he returned to look at Caleb with an intense expression. 

"Your work on spell modification is truly something. I was extremely pleased to hear that you were joining the faculty especially considering your work with Bigby's Hand. What's the name of the spell you developed?" Essek asked, turning sharply and so quickly that Caleb barely processed that he did. 

"Oh...Cat's Ire." 

"Yes, it's very clever, I'm sure a good many students will benefit from your instruction,” Essek said, and though it was a commonplace nicety somehow it felt genuine in a way that touched Caleb. 

"Well, thank you Dr. Theylss-"

"Just Essek will do," he corrected, straightening his already immaculate collar. 

"Then you must call me Caleb," Caleb managed beyond his tongue, which felt nearly swollen in his dry mouth. 

"Then I shall,” Essek said. He smiled, and he could see just the barest flash of elongated canines. “Caleb it is then. I cannot tell you how truly excited I am to be teaching with you this year. I look forward to it, truly, from the bottom of my heart. I’m sure I will learn a good many things from you.”

“Me as well,” Caleb croaked. 

With another airy smile, Dr. Essek Theylss left Caleb speechless in his own office. Behind him the air was scented with the slightest bit of peppermint, like he had dabbed on some expensive cologne before he walked in the room. Caleb sagged against the wall, attempting to take deep breaths and calm the pounding of his heart. He hadn’t felt so affected by anyone since...well, in a very long time. Longer than he would probably like to admit. Attractive people like that lived their own strange and storied lives that people like Caleb simply couldn’t understand. Though...he wanted to. Mentally he was already calculating how long it would be until it stopped being weird to visit in one of Dr. Theyl--Essek’s lectures. He was sure that Essek certainly had a lot to teach him. 

“Meow?” Frumpkin asked from the top of the bookshelf, blinking down at him with wide yellow eyes. His ears were alert, like he had just caught Caleb with his hand in a treat jar. Greedy thing, Caleb broadcasted across their mutual bond. Caleb got the distinct feeling of _playtime, bored_ , now sent back to him. 

“Ja, I know. What a day,” Caleb agreed before watching his familiar jump from the bookshelf onto his desk, scattering papers and knocking over his books and sending a paperweight tumbling to the flood. “Ach! Frumpkin! It’s not play time now! I’ll play with you when we get home!” 

A new year, a new adventure, and more things to learn. Caleb just wasn’t sure he was ready for it.

* * *

“What do you think of Dr. Widogast, Luc?”

“What do you mean, what do I think? I mean, like, he’s a good teacher. He’s my mom’s friend so I knew him before but like, when we all didn’t do well on the quiz he threw it out and retaught us..that was pretty nice.” 

“No, no, no! I mean about him and Dr. Theylss?” 

“Oh! That. Caliana was talking to me about the Dunamancy Major kids’ theories on that whole thing. I think it’s just bullshit.” 

“Go fuck yourself!” 

“No, go fuck _yourself_ , Kiri. And hey! Stop messing with Nugget and actually throw the ball please. Twiggy can you tell Trixie not to try to break nuts on Nugget’s head.” 

“Trixie don’t do that, be nice to Nugget! But seriously, Luc, you don’t think anything is going on between them?” 

“I didn’t say that, I just think that Uncle Caleb is too awkward to ever make the first move. Plus, Dr. Theylss is so intimidating. I heard he glared at a kid so hard once that they passed out in the lecture hall.” 

“Well I think it’s happening, and you wanna know why I think it’s happening?”

“Why?” 

“I saw them together the other day, outside of campus!” 

“No you did not, you are just bullshitting me right now.” 

“I am not! I totally did. I was having a girls night out with Reani and Keg and Caliana and Kiri and we went to the restaurant with the awesome fried calamari-you know the place right?” 

“I know the place. Also, hey, why did you guys all go out and not invite me? I’m insulted.” 

“That was the night you went on that date with the cute half-orc. How did that work out by the way?”

“Oh, got you. No luck unfortunately, all they wanted to do was talk about was how the War of 836 PD should be called the War of Xhorhassian Aggression and how good it was for the economy. Barf. I hate Merchant Majors. But anyways back to what you were saying…?” 

“They were in a booth talking, they had wine, and they were sitting real close together. Right, Kiri?” 

“Yes, I am very sweet.” 

“Dr. Widogast and Dr. Theylss were totally playing footsies under the table, it was definitely happening. They are totally in love and are dating, I am absolutely sure of it!” 

“Well, who would’ve thunk it. Uncle Caleb’s got game, maybe he could teach me a thing or two.” 

“You’ll shoot your eye out, Luc!” 

“Seriously, Kiri, wanna fight?”


	6. Due Diligence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Essek Week Day 1: Shadows  
> What if you aren’t my darkest self? Essek asked any god who may actually exist, dizzy and cold in his panic. What if I am yours?  
> Essek Week Day 2: Loneliness  
> Maybe there hadn’t been a singular moment. Maybe there had been a thousand cracks, a thousand fissures, and a thousand dislocations. Maybe Essek had never been whole at all.  
> Essek Week Day 3: Spy  
> Who are you? Essek wanted to ask the scourger. When the people in Rexxentrum saw your potential, did you cower or bite the hand that fed you?  
> Essek Week Day 4: Wine  
> His voice was smooth with a lilting Xhorhassian accent that added such a depth of flavor to him, and there was something so desirable and timeless about him...as if he were a vintage of wine that never went out of style.  
> Essek Week Day 5: Teaching  
> “Caleb it is then. I cannot tell you how truly excited I am to be teaching with you this year. I look forward to it, truly, from the bottom of my heart. I’m sure I will learn a good many things from you.”  
> Essek Week Day 6: Possibilities  
> “The Taskhand is...he’s cunning and intelligent...but more than that he’s ruthless.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright for day 6 of Essek Week I picked Possibilities....and since that’s a relatively vague prompt I took that to mean another chance to write a canon divergent AU. The possibility here being, what if the Mighty Nein knew Verin Theylss first (who we all met in the EGTW), not Essek. Also this is from Beau's perspective because...idk why not lol
> 
> ALSO...I have written a day 7 prompt...but...you know...it's just a tad too spicy to go with the T rating so it's going to be placed on its own island to thrive. So watch out for that!! If you are not interested in such things, thank you for reading this collection. I really appreciate that, and all the love and support I continually receive. You guys are the best. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

When they arrived in Bazzoxan, Beau immediately knew that something was up. 

Verin had been suspiciously quiet ever since they had made it past the Barbed Fields, which wasn’t normal because Verin was usually a chatty ray of sunshine that was punched directly in your face. He had been that way ever since the Mighty Nein had met him after Caleb pulled their safety right out of his ass with that beacon rescue. He had almost immediately ingratiated himself to the group, and whenever they needed something he was always there. When the court made it apparent that someone was to accompany them to Bazzoxan in their attempts to get to whatever Obann was trying to get before him, Verin volunteered himself. 

“Is something on your mind?” Caduceus asked, as they reached the gates. Verin looked even more troubled then he already had, his brows furrowing upon his face. 

“If you wish to go into the depths of Bazzoxan, you will need the permission of the Taskhand here,” Verin said before breaking off to speak in Undercommon with some of the guards. They looked between themselves and Verin tensely, before nodding and letting them through. “We just got permission to approach his residence. We should hurry before this information gets back to him, if it hasn’t already.”

“Better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission?” Fjord offered. 

“I would say so,” Verin confirmed. 

“We have the Queen’s thingy-ma-bobers though,” Jester said, fishing out her pass and holding it up. 

“I am afraid that will do little to convince him. The Taskhand is...a notoriously difficult man to get along with,” Verin said apologetically. “He is also extremely possessive of these caves and the artifacts that can be found within. The Bright Queen often defers to his knowledge of the dangers here, so that pass will do nothing. If he says no, the Bright Queen will rescind her permission. We will need to convince him that your mission is important enough to occur without going through the official channels.” 

“He sounds like a fucking asshole,” Beau couldn’t help but snort. Verin’s mouth twisted into a rueful smile. 

“I wouldn’t let him hear that,” Verin laughed, though she found it was an echo of his usual bright laugh. 

“And you have had dealings with him before? What is he like then?” Caleb asked, as always the smart bastard was looking for an angle. 

“We can’t just threaten him?” Nott asked, cocking her crossbow.

“Or kill him?” Yasha said, motioning to her Magician’s judge sword. 

“No, that wouldn’t work. He is extremely powerful, far more powerful than I am. He is probably one of the-if not the greatest graviturgist in the Dynasty,” Verin said with a shake of his head. “The Taskhand is...he’s cunning and intelligent...but more than that he’s ruthless. If you really want this, you’ll have to appeal to his pride. I’ll do what I can, but I can make no promises.” 

“Just you helping is enough,” Caduceus promised, giving Verin a pat on the shoulder. Verin looked at him with an appreciative smile, before they approached the main fortress. Bazzoxan was a military hub, and it was reflected in the general assholery and business of the streets. Everyone was on edge, like they were all expecting the first punch. It made it so every look set her teeth on edge. Finally they arrived at the tower...a huge intimidating presence that seemed to look down at the wasteland like it was judging it. A surprised looking officer met Verin, eyes wide and darting between him and the rest of them nervously as they chatted in Undercommon. They ducked up the stairs behind...and there was a pause before the officer appeared once more. 

“The Taskhand shall see you,” the officer said breathlessly, leading them up before closing them in. 

The room itself was much like Yussa Eranis’ laboratory, though obviously meticulously arranged and organized. There were desks, lanterns and magnifying glasses, artifacts in cases and bookshelves full of books. Beau could almost feel Caleb vibrating next to her with the excitement of just seeing books, whereas Nott’s eyes were darting about like she was about to make the worst decision of all of their lives. Yasha set herself next to Nott, who wilted under her gaze. Don’t be an idiot, Nott, Beau snapped at her mentally. This guy was a wizard or something. Wizards always warded their shit. 

There was a drow sitting at the desk. Beau wasn’t too much of a judge of male faces...obviously. But she wasn’t blind, even she had to admit the guy was downright attractive to an almost distracting degree. He was all edges and smooth planes, and short coiffed curls and silvered eyes. His smile was perfectly pleasant, as if the person he was seeing was the person he most wanted to meet in the world. There was something familiar though about his brow and-

“Essek,” Verin greeted flatly. 

“It is a surprise to see you,” the Taskhand said, drifting out from the edge of the desk and tracing it with a finger as he went. He wore an ornate mantle and robes that obscured his body...but the way he moved was so odd and weightless that it almost distracted Beau from the guy’s next words. “Allow me to make your acquaintance, I am Taskhand Essek Theylss, Verin’s elder brother. Bazzoxan is my charge.” 

“Brother?” Beau hissed at Verin not so subtly. “This guy is your brother?” 

“Forgive us for our rudeness, we are the Mighty Nein,” Fjord said. “My name is Fjord.”

“Hi! I’m Jester!” Jester chirped with an excited wave. “It’s so nice to meet you! Verin has been very kind to us.”

“I imagine so, Verin has always been good at making friends,” Essek said, his soft voice cool and neutral, his lips still a smile. Verin bristled under his gaze like he was preparing for an attack. “I thank you for taking care of him.” 

“Of course!” Jester promised. “We’re friends.” 

"I see, then I hope you continue to be good to him in the future. Now...who else…?" 

“'M Nott,” Nott grumbled, looking put out...like she was about to start crawling out of her goddamn skin with the desire to knick something. 

“I am Yasha,” she introduced quietly, eyes never moving from Essek. Her hand rested at her side, not too far from her sword. 

“Beau,” Beau said curtly. 

“Caduceus Clay,” he said congenially. 

“My name is Caleb Widogast,” Caleb said, and Beau felt Essek’s focus shift almost immediately to Caleb. 

“A curious accent...Zemnian if I am not mistaken. Clearly you have all traveled far and not for pleasantries,” Essek said, before folding his hands in front of him like a neat many-petaled flower (or a coiled snake). “Now tell me, what does my little brother and his merry band of mercenaries need from me?”

“There is a dangerous demon guy named Obann making his way to Bazzoxan right now. They are members of this cult that means to release this deity named The Angel of Irons,” Beau explained before squinting at Essek suspiciously. Shady wizard he may be but... “Do you know anything about it?” 

“Only what I have researched on behalf of the Bright Queen,” Essek said, quick-silver eyes raking over her face as if he were taking her in, calculating her out in some weird equation. “It’s a relatively new cult with a rather destructive and end-of-the-world touch. I appreciate the flair for the dramatic but little else." 

“I didn’t realize you were the one the Bright Queen tasked with the job of researching,” Verin said quietly. 

“I wouldn’t say I find it too interesting, as you know my interests do not lie in religious studies,” Essek explained, expression sleek in the way frost looked in the morning light. “But of course I do what is commanded of me by the powers that be.” 

“We need to enter the depths of Bazzoxan in order to stop Obann, and we have been told we need your permission to do so,” Fjord said, obviously trying to reorient the conversation. “We are here to beg you to see the urgency of our mission and grant us passage.” 

“I see,” Essek said, tipping his head to the side as if he was weighing the thought heavily. “Very well, you have my permission. If the Bright Queen believed your mission to be of such importance to send you here, then who am I to refuse? I’ll allow it...on a few conditions of course.” 

“Of course,” Verin grumbled with an exasperated huff. “There is always a condition with you.” 

“Unlike you, Verin, I do not see fit to be given everything for free nor do I wish to give things for free,” Essek said, gently admonishing him. The patronizing tone of his voice was obvious, it reminded Beau much of her old nanny back when her dad thought she could be whipped into shape and made to be ladylike with a firm hand. Verin’s face flushed and his ears twitched against his skull. “It is simply not in my nature to be giving, I am afraid.” 

“What is it that you would require from us?” Caleb asked him, Essek’s gaze slid back to Caleb. Beau couldn’t help the fact that she was now tense. What was it with weird wizards and their obsession with Caleb? Their gazes met for an intense moment-and what was Caleb doing? She just couldn’t get a handle on this guy. Either he wanted to kill Caleb or do something weird and kinky...or maybe both. Beau didn’t know but she didn’t like it one bit. Caleb broke eye contact, and the drow smiled a smile lined with smugness. Essek returned to looking at them all. 

“I ask for three things,” Essek said, waving his hand. “First, you return to see me to report. I should like to know what you see down there considering I believe you wish to go in through an unexplored territory. Second, anything you find in the depths you bring to me first before absconding with it.” 

“Would we have to fight you for it?” Nott asked suspiciously. 

“ _I would like to see you try_ ,” Essek said with a sharp-toothed grin. Now this? This was a threat, and it sent a cold chill up Beau’s spine. Then almost immediately the storm passed and the placid looking Taskhand stood there once more. “No no, nothing so dire. I simply would like to catalog the artifacts. If it has no use to me, I will of course let you keep it. I do not find that many of these artifacts have a substantial use to me but it is important to know what is down there.” 

“That is...reasonable,” Fjord said quietly. 

“Lastly, I ask for a favor to be returned in due time,” Essek said, floating to grasp a piece of parchment from a stack. There were no footsteps, instead it was as if he were a snake or a water strider sliding across the floor. How was he doing that? Beau would have asked if she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t answer without demanding something else in return...like Caleb’s fingers or something weird. 

“What would we be able to do for you?” Caleb asked him curiously, fingers gripping his own wrist. “Surely with your power you would not need our help to accomplish your aims.” 

“As much as I appreciate your flattery, I find that you never know exactly what use a person will have until the occasion arises,” Essek said, all gentle smiles and soft half-lidded new moon eyes that reflected absolutely nothing. “I’m sure you know a thing or two about that.” 

“Essek,” Verin said, tone a warning. Something passed between them, as a tension rose in the room like flood waters. Almost as soon as it happened, Verin tore his gaze away, obviously conceding in whatever silent battle they had waged. 

“I appear to have worn out my welcome in your company,” Essek said with an apologetic look towards them as he circled the desk once more and picked up a quill. He signed it with a flourish. “So I will not keep you longer than necessary, Verin, if you don’t mind?”

“Are you having him sign his soul away?” Jester asked curiously. 

“As enjoyable as that would be? Unfortunately no. It’s just official paperwork, giving you permission,” Essek said, sliding the sheet across the Verin. They shared a long look, before Verin signed it and slid it back. “Thank you, that’ll be all then.” 

“Do me a favor then, I figure you owe me one,” Verin said. Essek’s mouth twitched, something pulling at his smile. 

“Oh?” The question was given idly, as if it were of no importance. 

“Let Caleb look at your teleportation circle,” Verin requested. “I know you keep one. If we need a quick escape and to warn you if something is coming, this will be the easiest way.” 

“And I owe you this because...?” Essek asked. 

“If I die in Bazzoxan, and you could’ve done something to stop it, you know Mother will never let you hear the end of it,” Verin said, sounding resigned. “I know you don’t care about me, but I know that would bother you.” 

The Taskhand blinked slowly, but did nothing to argue Verin’s claim. For a second, Beau could have sworn he was...well, not sad. Sad was too strong a word. Meditative perhaps. Instead of saying anything to beg the contrary he gazed at Verin for a moment longer, before giving a noncommittal shrug. 

“If that is what you want? Then of course. It will be done immediately,” Essek agreed. “I’ll not have Mother saying I did not do my due diligence towards you. Very well then, follow me Caleb.” 

Caleb shared a look with all of them, before disappearing through a door. Nott immediately went to press her ear against it. Yasha stood guard, hand at the ready. 

“What an asshole,” Beau growled. 

“He’s hot," Jester said appreciatively. 

"He's certainly something," Fjord said, eyeing the door. His gaze drifted to Caduceus who looked unperturbed. Cad was usually a good marker of these things and if he felt that Caleb was in danger he would have spoken up. He could be pretty enigmatic but Caduceus never fucked around with important things. If things were going south, he would know. Until then, it would pay to be vigilant. 

"I mean yeah but, like, you would want someone who's not a complete dick bag," Beau said with a roll of her eyes. Jester giggled because of course she did and it was so endearing it almost made her forget where they were. She looked back to Verin, who was staring at the door intensely. "Thanks man, you didn't need to do that. You might have just saved our lives." 

"Or put them in danger," Verin said, jaw tense. He looked at where his brother had disappeared with Caleb as if he knew something they didn’t...some secret danger that lurked beyond the Taskhand’s pleasant facade. And out of everyone, he probably did. "But we won't know until it's time." 

"Yeah…" Beau said as she stood vigil with them. "I guess you are right."


End file.
